I’ve always been a fan of cult movies, before I even had heard of the phrase ‘cult movies’ thanks mainly to the BBC’s horror double bills of the 1970s I used to absorb as a child. By the time I was a relatively spot-free teenager I’d be making regular trips to the GFT or any cinema in Glasgow to lap up anything that’d be on from Betty Blue, to Terminator, to Subway, to Kiss of the Spider Woman, to Re-Animator. Nothing was off limits.
By the time I hit my early 20s, I’d moved to Leicester to work for a company distributing comics and one of the things I did a lot in those early days was to visit London to see gigs, drink, and on one night after missing a last train home I ended up at the Scala. The Scala was in Kings Cross just down from St Pancras Station, and in those days it wasn’t a part of London you wanted to hang around too long. The place was full of dealers, prostitutes, muggers & all the sort of people you really didn’t want to engage in any sort of conversation in case you ended up getting mugged, stabbed or boiled down into glue. However, the Scala offered a safer option than kipping down in a station or calling up mates at one in the morning then trying to get across London assuming, of course, they were awake or at home or had space for you to crash.
So the Scala was there. I knew it was there of course as they used to run all-nighters during UKCAC, the big comics convention held in London & I knew they ran regular all-night film shows so off I went to the cinema to see what was on. I went through the doors into another world. You were thrown from a dangerous, risky world into something dark, mysterious and once you got into the screen, very sticky and uncomfortable, but fuck it. It was warmish, you could buy snacks and drinks, have a seat and oh look, Cat People is about to start!
I’d missed Cat People at the cinema when I was younger, so I instantly sobered up and was glued to the screen only making vague notes at some of the stuff going on around me. I’d sat fairly near the front but behind me someone was dozing off who kept snoring for a few seconds before waking up suddenly with a shout & people would be coming into the cinema possibly in the same situation as myself to see what was playing. After the film, I spent most of the rest of the night/morning sitting in the bar chatting to people til we eventually all had to leave as even the Scala had to close. I got the first train back to Leicester pumped full of excitement at this new place I’d discovered as well as what felt like litres of coffee to keep me awake in case I fell asleep on the train and ended up in Leeds. Over the years I’d visit the Scala frequently, especially of a weekend as I’d be working in London or visiting friends or girlfriends in the city & if there was something good or interesting on I’d head to the Scala. I used to especially spend a Sunday there as a place to hang out after the Camden Comic Marts which were held just over the road from Kings Cross Station behind the library in a maze of streets which lurked some of the seediest places you’d ever come across. It was a fantastic time, though, like any fantastic time you never realised that when you were having it.
Jane Giles and Ali Catterall’s documentary about the Scala captures that era perfectly but without the smells or the exceptionally dodgy people you’d avoid on the way out the Scala at six in the morning. Sure, there were similar venues across the UK in Glasgow, Bristol, Nottingham and elsewhere but Scala was a hub that drew everyone in & it was a place for people to meet & experience films and many other things that’d you’d not get anywhere else in the same way, especially for young kids like me. The late 80s/early 90s were a grim time for so, so many people yet there was a huge amount of creativity and excitement to be found in places like the Scala for working class kids, gay or lesbian youth & the sort of misfit that gravitates to London. It was a melting pot that in its own small way influenced so much of UK culture and if you want to get a jist of what it was, then watch this documentary.
The Scala is gone now. The building remains as does the name though now it is a nightclub/venue while Kings Cross has been gentrified to a degree. There’s still an edge to the area & I’m sure the Scala is a decent venue for its current punters but for a generation it’ll always be that grimy cinema where anything could, and often did, happen.
My Little Underground 